


The Intervention

by Southbroom



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Funny, awkward as it should be!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southbroom/pseuds/Southbroom
Summary: In which Miller, as always, sticks her nose up where it most certainly isn't her business.





	The Intervention

Ellie was panting by the time she got to the top of the hill where Hardy’s beachside cottage sat nestled behind the cliffs. After a brief rest on one of the sunset-orange tanning chairs, Ellie knocked on the door.

She wondered briefly how Hardy trekked the steep incline every day – considering his _condition_ – and decided that the Scot must most defiantly be in a better shape than she was.

Their new case had stirred up a child-like excitement which Ellie could barely contain. Hardy rolled his eyes at her being in the office before him for the past week. She made him cups and cups of tea just to get him to stay longer because it was exactly her kind of police work. Theft was blissfully small enough that it didn’t stir up any emotions it her; however challenging enough that she could set herself to work and loose herself in the chase.

But it seemed Hardy was not home. Ellie knocked again, and peered through the glass, but there seemed no one around. She felt her heart sink expectantly. The clue was nowhere near vital, but now she would have to wait until Monday morning to let Hardy know. Irritation pooled in her stomach.

Ellie spun around on her feet, only to notice voices coming from inside the house.

Cautiously, she opened the door to a peep and called out his name. She was met once again with silence. Almost silence.

There was a radio tuned to BBC Three, and the overly-bright tones carried through the house.

“Hardy?” she called again, turning the volume down. She noticed a framed picture of a toothy Grade 1 Daisy on the shelf and smiled at it.

“Daisy? Are you there?”

A thud came from the direction of the bedrooms and Ellie strolled toward them with caution. The teenager’s room was empty and so was Hardy’s, meaning the only room left…

“Hardy?” she said again, in a softer tone than before, “You in there? I’ll make us a cuppa while you finish up.”

The silence was defining this time. Ellie felt her heart speeding up – this having nothing to do with a steep hill. She knocked urgently, the growing sense of dread not helped by the lack of reply.

She raised a hand to her mouth, thinking too quickly. Perhaps Hardy was not in that great of a shape after all. She pictured him, blood dripping down his forehead, limbs sprawled at illogical angles against the shower floor. Or perhaps he had not had a heart attack yet! And she could call and ambulance-

The picture she saw inside was equally striking, but perhaps not as tragic as Ellie had imagined. She took note of Hardy’s giant feet sticking out one end of the bath, and his confused eyes out the other. In the same single moment he attempted to sit up, and overbalanced his position. As a head descended underwater, so did hairy feet rise. And hairy legs and hairy-

Ellie rushed forward, grabbing an arm and pulling him up.

“ _Miller what the_ -“

“Are you okay-“

“ _Miller?_ Get the fuck out!” he fired, yanking his arm back, “What is wrong with you! You-”

She stood up, backing off, but staring at his mortified, livid face.

“-barge into my house uninvited! And don’t have the sense to knock!”

“I wanted to check that you were still alive!”

“All you people in this village are exactly- I am fucking alive and breathing I’ll have you know, Miller! And I-”

Hardy paused, his gaze darting toward the rest of his body still under the water and Ellie made the mistake of following it.

His expression shifted to hurt and embarrassment and she finally had the good sense to leave the bathroom.

Then the silence returned, it gripping the sides of her head like claws. She backed up into the wall, wishing that it could eat her up and help her escape and undo and...

_What was I thinking?_ Ellie felt dizzy with self-loathing. Hardy had not gone into cardiac arrest since his surgery _three years ago_. Of course he would not be dying in the shower! She could have potentially, permanently ruined one of the best working relationships of her life! But barging in uninvited.

She went beet-red as she stormed out the cottage, clenching her coat and taking overly-large steps.

She hoped that he could forgive her – or better yet: never mention it ever again. Hopefully Hardy would act like he always did when she embarrassed him with a personal question and shut up and look in the other direction.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t. Maybe this would be the final straw. Maybe Hardy would loath her forever and take his daughter back to Sandbrook.

“This is intolerable!” she hissed at herself, turning around once again. Nothing was going to be resolved it they both slept on it.

Once back in the cottage, she listened for his whereabouts, hearing shuffles in the direction of the bedrooms. Ellie exhaled, putting herself to work. She located his mugs and flipped the kettle on. She now found it impossible to lock eyes with Grade 1 Daisy – feelings of guilt to the point of nausea inflicting her mind.

_Shitshitshitshitshit. Shit._

Ten minutes later Hardy came into the living room, dressed so formally that physically burned her eyes (contrasted to what he looked like in the bathtub). He sported his usual shoes, button up and tie, complete with deflated sigh and scowl.

“Why are you still here, Millahr?” he dragged out, placing his hands on his hips.

“I want to apologise.” She hated how eager she sounded, “So I made us tea.”

She gestured to the table, still pulling a tight smile, feeling like an idiot.

“We can talk tomorrow, yeah? Go home. The boys will be needing you soon.”

His relaxed tone was enough for her to snap.

“No!”

He looked bewildered.

“We have to talk about things!” she pleaded, “I am sorry. I am so sorry for-“

“Barging into my house? Barging into my bathro-”

“I knocked and I called your name and-“

“That doesn’t-“

“Are you deaf? I really want to know. What were you doing in there? Half your head was under the water!”

“Does it matter! Don’t your know the difference between being welcome and unwelcome, Millah? I don’t want you here on Sunday mornings! For God’s sake! Don’t you have anything better to do?”

She took a step back, her mouth opening with an insult and then flopping closed like a fish’s.

His anger faded when he saw the tears welling in her eyes, her posture shrinking.

“Miller?”

She shook her head, “I should go. Beth’s invited us to lunch.”

She reached for her coat on the rack, folding it open with her hands.

“We can talk about this when-“

She startled when his arms linked behind her back. Ellie was suddenly enveloped by his chest. All her hopes for keeping it together collapsed and she felt, with burning embarrassment, as she sobbed into his shoulder.

And he just held her. She couldn’t remember for how long, only that when she started rapid-fire apologising, he pulled her down to the sofa by her arms.

“I didn’t want to go in I was just worried that you might have… have had another episode.”

He rolled his eyes, “That hasn’t happed for years, Ellie.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. You are so important to me. I can’t stand…” She teared up again. “Urg, God. Look at me. This has been such a _fuck-up_.”

“The last time I went to the Doctor he said that my cholesterol was fine.” He said, looking at her in worry, “So that’s a good thing.”

“What?”

“My blood has higher levels of-“

“I know what cholesterol is! I thought you had arrhythmia.”

“I do.” He blurted out, “That’s what the what the pacemaker is for.” He touched a spot on his side. “I also had high cholesterol that added to the _episode_ problem.”

“How come you never told me this? It _is_ a bloody condition.”

“It’s not a condition anymore-“

“You need to tell me these things! God knows what could still happen to you. Daisy needs you!”

“It’s fine, Miller.”

Except it wasn’t. She felt deflated, not even angry anymore, at his low opinion of himself. Why was it the he never saw himself as the good man she knew he was. He meant the world to that girl of his, and to her and Tom and Fred, but he was determined to believe the world did not need him.

She grabbed him, pressing him close to her. Ellie wondered if he even realised that that was the first and second times they had ever hugged, but she did. She savoured ever moment of it, the itching of his beard on her cheek, his sharp chin digging into her shoulders.

“You are awfully emotional today, Miller.” He commented, an attempt to cut at the tense air in the room.

He pulled back to his side of the sofa.

“And affectionate.” He chuckled.

When the weight of his words sank in, Hardy stroked the back of his neck.

“I came here to tell you that Pete Lister’s one ewe was actually one of Frank Newcastle’s sheep. I was registered under his name. So it made me think that maybe the farmers are stealing from each other.”

“Oh.”

“Yes I know. All that drama for that! What a train wreck I am.”

Ellie rubbed her eyes, looking out at the ocean before turning back to Hardy.

“I was worried you’d never speak to me again. But it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Hardy eyeballed the wall.

“What were you doing under the water anyway? Holding your breath? Is that why you couldn’t hear me?”

“I’ve always wondered what you do when I am not around. Turns out it ignoring the blurting radio and-“ Ellie turned and looked at him seriously, “You weren’t trying to drown yourself, were you?”

“No.” he said, frowning. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the cushion, looking anywhere but her.

Then she had a strange sensation overcome her. She wanted to lean over and kiss him, to communicate just how much she needed him. How special he was, how he inspired her with every new thing she managed to learn about him.

She got as far as placing her palm on his jaw, only to panic. He glanced at her, taking her other hand in his, slowly unclenching her fist.

She always felt like she had the upper hand with Hardy. That was one of the reasons with she enjoyed debating with him so, because she could unravel him and expose him bare.

The did not feel the slightest bit in control as he stared at her then. Big and soft brown eyes, asking for a million this and taking nothing. She slid her hand back into his hair and they met in the middle in the briefest, chaste kiss, before pulling back.

“Is that?”

“What?” she breathed.

“Never mind.” He whispered, looked startled.

She chuckled then, unable to hold it back.

“Hey now!” he pouted.

“You should have seen your face!”

“Ellie?” he said sternly.

“Yes?”

“You should have seen yours.”

She saw the flicker of a grin before he kissed her again. Better this time. His arm snaked around her waist and she pulled on his hair. They fell backward on the cushions, clenching onto each other.

A abandoned orange coat lay on the floor, matching two blue mugs of cold tea. It would be the first of many such untouched mugs.

x


End file.
